


Watching Movies

by Angie13



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-12 00:48:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/805201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angie13/pseuds/Angie13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you stay in dive motels, your television-viewing options are limited.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watching Movies

Sam walked into the seedy motel room and paused in the doorway almost immediately; the scene in front of him reminded him too much of another scene, positions reversed, and he prayed that it wasn’t really a case of catching Dean watching porn. (Of course, if Dean was, he should probably brace himself for a full rundown of the obviously epic plot line. This was Dean, after all.) He stood there, hesitating for a few more moments, and then cleared his throat noisily.

Dean didn’t even shift his eyes. He did, however, grumble in a horrifyingly clear voice, “I knew it. Angels are creepy motherfuckers with serious penis envy.”

Since there really was no answer to that aside from turning around and leaving again, Sam held his ground and waited. When Dean remained intent on his show, he finally gave up and edged further in until he was at an angle to see the screen. He tried not to think about Dean's familiarity with the concept of penis envy. He frowned. What did Christopher Walken have to do with angels? He watched for another few moments until something sparked his primal memory recall and he pointed. "Is that Casey Jones?"

Strangely, that was exactly the magic question which snapped Dean out of his intense funk and he turned with a snap to blink owlishly at his brother. His mouth opened and closed for a moment and then he shook his head. "What?" he asked, not so clever.

"Casey Jones," Sam repeated. "You know, with the turtles. He was your favorite. The one with the sports equipment."

"I didn't have a favorite." Dean scowled and looked back to the television at Sam's smirk. "Donatello lover," he muttered beneath his breath. Then, louder, he answered, "No, it's not freakin' Turtles. It's some movie called The Prophecy. Ever hear of it?"

Sam shook his head but came further into the room, absently moving around to perch on the edge of his own bed. The intensity of Dean's focus had him interested despite himself and he was reluctant to miss a moment of the inexplicable happenings on the television. Minutes slid past until, finally, he nodded to himself and bent to unlace his boots. "So Christopher Walken is an angel now?"

"Yeah... And he's a dick."

"Well, they got that right, at least," Sam muttered with a sigh as he pushed off the heavy weight of his boots and then allowed himself to fall back flat on his mattress. The bed groaned in protest. "He try to smite a whole town yet?"

Dean grunted and blindly reached for the remote. "Nah. Just the whole human race." He wrinkled his nose and hit the mute button to silence the movie. Then he pitched it without looking in the direction of his brother. He kept his face bland in response to the angry "oof" created by one remote to the stomach. Instead, he busied himself with standing and stretching with happy-cat noises. He spared one more glance at the television, then wandered over to poke at the bag Sam had brought in with him. A few well-aimed jabs opened it further to reveal a few pieces of fruit and a box of donuts. A magazine had given up and rolled itself down into a flattened tube; the advertisements on the back indicated it was a magazine for him. Grinning now, he reached in to retrieve the copy of Road & Track. The sudden recurrence of sound from the movie, though, made him pause. "You're gonna watch it?" he asked.

"You were watching it," Sam pointed out in tones that always made Dean think of a seven-year-old version of his brother catching him cheating at Monopoly. Dean sighed and flicked open the magazine, ignoring him. He felt Sam's eyes on his back. He bore it for a few minutes and then rolled his shoulders backwards as if shrugging off the gaze. "Why were you watching it if you didn't like it?"

"I dunno. Why watch anything?" Dean turned and leaned against the rickety table behind him. The magazine was still open, held in both hands, but he met Sam's eyes. "I just, y'know, thought... Hey, angels. Like we don't get enough of them already, right? At least it's Christopher Walken."

Sam let silence settle in again for a moment and then made a low noise in the back of his throat. "Not so much, huh?"

"Not so much. Freakin' angels." He closed the magazine and grimaced. "Though I'd say he's totally more Uriel than Cass."

"That's just because Cass treats you like you're the second coming," Sam muttered.

"I heard that." Dean rolled the magazine and considered his brother's head as a suitable target. He thought about telling Sam that he was just jealous, that he wasn't the only special one. That brought a chill to his stomach, though, and put tension back into his shoulders. "Whatever." He crossed back to his bed and collapsed on it, making the springs protest with a threatening creak. "Wish they had better Walken movies on," he continued neutrally. "I heard about one that's about pool. Sounds fun."

Something in Dean's voice caught Sam's attention and he pushed himself upright before standing and heading for his laptop. "Fine," he sighed. "I'll see if I can find it and we'll download it." He practically felt the grin directed at him, the shift in Dean's mood. "Then you can stop whining."

"Not whining. Just making observations." Dean paused and then struggled himself into a seated position. He rested his elbows on his knees and cradled his chin in his upraised hand as he considered the television. "And, hey... See if you can find that Turtles movie, too."

Sam did not turn around and Dean grinned harder, relaxing again as he read the mixture of annoyance and amusement in his brother's back. Flopping back again, he folded his hands on his stomach and watched the shadows on the popcorn ceiling. Movie night. It was about damn time they had one of those again... Even if he had to sit through some damn angels for it.


End file.
